


Night at the Theatre

by leveldevil



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Canon Divergence, Established Relationship, F/M, Post-Canon Fix-It, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-17
Updated: 2017-03-17
Packaged: 2018-10-06 14:49:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10336968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leveldevil/pseuds/leveldevil
Summary: Aranea Highwind had a wild imagination and healthy ambition, but she had never wasted one second picturing herself inside the Citadel’s theatre, decked in fine clothes, wearing high heels and sitting as demurely as she could while an orchestra played on the stage to honor the restoration of the Kingdom of Lucis.She was cured of her boredom by Ignis Scientia, of all people.





	

**Author's Note:**

> My initial, small contribution to the pairing and written in the spur of the moment. Like many Highspecs/Ignea shippers out there, I started to look at them differently during the time Aranea joins the party at the Vesperpool and since then I’ll admit I live for these guys. I sincerely hope to see more of Aranea too – she’s one of the best characters in the game and I’m keeping my fingers crossed to see more of her in the future, maybe in a future DLC? One can only hope.
> 
> Apologies for Ignis; despite my love for him, he’s sincerely challenging to write. Nonetheless, hope this is enjoyable.

Aranea Highwind had a wild imagination and healthy ambition, but she had _never_ wasted one second picturing herself inside the Citadel’s theatre, decked in fine clothes, wearing high heels and sitting as demurely as she could while an orchestra played on the stage to honor the restoration of the Kingdom of Lucis.

And the only reason she was there, trying not to look as bored as she felt, was because she had been profusely invited as part of the ‘sunbringer squad’, as she jokingly called the people who led the daemon slaying efforts during the eternal night. Aranea had been one of the most important leaders, right alongside Cor Leonis, and that earned her a spot right next to the stage, under the spotlight and subject to the curious glances of every single fucking soul.

The orchestra played wonderfully, but the current song was so slow and mellow that the dragoon thought about excusing herself to the ladies’ room just to splash water on her face. But that, she remembered, would ruin the make-up a few excited and giggling girls had applied to her face, and undoubtedly earn her new enemies among the citadel’s servants.

“Does this bore you?”

The question came in a soft whisper but Aranea knew it was directed towards her - especially because the balconies reserved for special guests were small and only two chairs were placed in each one. There was no one else Ignis could be speaking to, but the former commodore was surprised to realize he had noticed that when she hadn’t said anything.

“How do you know?”

“Apart from the several times you refused the invitation?” Aranea had moved her eyes from the ceiling to the man sitting beside her and now she clearly saw the smirk which appeared on Ignis’ perfectly composed face, staring straight at the stage as if he still could see it all, “You are restless, my dear. I can hear you fidgeting with your dress.”

“Ho-“ Aranea stopped mid-sentence, mouth still open in a small ‘o’ shape considering his correct guess of her attire; but this time she thought back, trying to locate the details which could give it away and smiling triumphantly. “Ah. The _heels_. I wouldn’t be stuck with these if not for a stupid dress.”

“I do think they would make for elegant footwear in other situations, but a dress was the most obvious choice indeed,” Ignis moved his head slightly in a nod, as if granting her victory over that small issue. Aranea chuckled, moving in her chair once more in a futile attempt to feel more comfortable, and finally kicking off the abusive shoes. No one could see it from downstairs, after all.

“Not very ladylike, Lady A.”

“I was _never_ a lady, honey,” the grin remained on the dragoon’s face, now much more awake thanks to the banter with Ignis. The orchestra still carried out the same sorrowful, longing melody but she had forgotten about it and the corner of her right eye remained on the now restored adviser all the time.

“No standards to uphold, then.”

“Absolutely none.”

“So you wouldn’t oppose the idea of leaving this balcony accompanied by a single male guest and remain outside for considerable more time than would be needed for a short trip to the restrooms?”

Aranea Highwind had no comeback for that. She now was outright staring at Ignis as if he had suddenly acquired a pair of horns, but his only reaction was a placid, almost polite smile. When a gloved hand rose to his face and removed the dark shades he wore everywhere, the marks of the incident in Altissia were clearly visible – as well as the overall smug expression he wore.

“Wha- you mean you’re bored?” the woman lowered her tone then, only fleetingly sparing a glance to the side to see if anyone else had heard her small outburst, “You, Ignis _fucking_ Scientia, is not enjoying some classical music and would rather saunter away with a woman?”

The man was then carefully folding his glasses, placing them on his lap for the time being but still focused on Aranea, judging from the way his head was turned towards her. The dragoon felt hot and flushed all of a sudden, but he just inched closer as if able to calculate how distant they were (and maybe he could – she was breathing so loud now he could probably hear that from outside) and brushed his cheek against hers to whisper into her ear.

“While I do enjoy classical music, I have listened to these pieces countless times before. So yes, I’d rather trade the orchestra for the chance of, as you so adequately put, saunter away with _a_ very specific woman.”

Aranea jumped slightly on her chair – she wished she could claim it was due to a sudden crescendo in the music, but the likely source was Ignis’ surprising suggestion. They had grown close during the ten years of darkness and while they kept their moments together secret at least, there was no way such a thing could be hidden forever in an overcrowded city like Lestallum.

But ever since Insomnia had been rebuilt and people slowly started to get back to regular lives during daylight and nighttime hours, they had kept their distance for professional reasons. People had elected a prime-minister, and agreed to maintain the status of a kingdom even if the Caelum line was lost forever. The throne room would be a memorial to the lives lost and no king would ever reign over Lucis again, but his brave companions all were granted positions within the new government.

Prompto had a position within public relations; Gladio had assumed the task of recreating a defense force alongside Cor; Ignis was a special adviser to the new prime-minister, having opted not to run for the job in the first place – and as such a respectable man, Aranea in her mercenary position was usually not publicly around him.

Until that night, apparently.

“ _Fuck you_ , Specs. Sometimes I think I liked the demure guy I met on that road trip better. So easy to tease,” she almost cursed under her breath but Aranea was the first one to stand up, attracting a few curious glances as she did so. She ignored then and swiftly walked outside, grabbing Ignis on the way and not slowing for one second to allow him to collect himself but for dropping his glasses onto the cushioned seat – the man could literally throw daggers in the darkness, he’d manage a few hurried steps alright.

Aranea pulled him to the nearest wall, slamming the man against the cold surface and kissing him like he was air to a drowning woman. The orchestra was but a faint background noise, overpowered by her own heartbeat and moans elicited from the hungry contact. Things were so different now – it took her a lot of time to finally gain his trust and to be able to see Ignis let go of his fears and restraints; and by Ifrit, he was a passionate man in every single sense of the word – for his job, for his hobbies, for his friends, for Aranea.

The moment the dragoon thought she had the upper hand, she lost – her braided hair, a trademark of the former commodore, worked beautifully in favor of Ignis, allowing him to reverse the positions and to press the woman against the wall. She gasped for air and hissed due to the sudden cool feeling of concrete against her bare back, but Aranea responded with fierce tugs and domineering kisses, savoring Ignis until they were both out of air.

This time, he was just as flushed as she was. Heels kicked off, she was smaller than him and needed to adjust her face to adequately gaze at him, but he seemed eerily aware of just where her eyes and lips were.

“Do you actually prefer the old me?”

“By Ifrit’s balls, Ignis. You’re jealous of _yourself_?” Aranea teased with a light chuckle, but she knew what Ignis meant – in a sense. His confidence had returned after years, but she knew he missed being able to see it all: the rebuilt city; the face of his friends; the dress she was wearing that night. Living in eternal night when everyone else was blessed with the sun again was a terrible fate, and sometimes the woman saw these dark thoughts swirling in his brain by the way his brow furrowed and how he went unusually silent.

“In a way.”

“You shouldn’t be, silly. You’re _still_ him,” she replied in a kind tone, reaching for his scars. Ignis no longer recoiled from the touch – he leaned into it, more like an animal who yearned for the soft pats of its owner rather than a scared creature when human contact was concerned. She didn’t mind the scars in the slightest – she had plenty of her own to match and then some, and the adviser had memorized them all.

“You’re still uptight, occasionally grumpy like a geezer and an insufferable know-it-all when you want. You do dress better now, though.”

It was Ignis’ turn to laugh – this was Aranea’s effect on him, Gladio claimed once; she was just too blunt and often nonsensical in a manner which effectively destroyed the barriers the man had put up long ago for himself. She didn’t make light of the actual serious situations, but she pitied no one – and that had drawn Ignis in when anyone else thought he was but an invalid.

Aranea then kissed him again, softly and sweeter; it was reciprocated for a moment before Ignis pulled away, apparently listening to the music coming from the theatre and making the dragoon raise an eyebrow at him.

“I know this next piece. It should give us… Approximately forty-five minutes.”

“Forty-five minutes?”

And just like that, Ignis’ little smirk was back in place, his hands tightening only a bit around her waist. Even if his emerald eyes had changed, she sometimes swore she could see a flicker of fire in there, of the molten pool of green that reflected all his desire and intensity that honored his given name. It was a look that made her shiver, even if he was permanently blind. Another mystery that apparently only Ignis Scientia could pull off.

“Have I ever mentioned that I was classically trained to play quite a few instruments since a very young age?”

“No, but not surprised.”

“And that my classes were often held here, in this same theatre left untouched by the battles thanks to the protection offered by the citadel?”

“…No?”

“And therefore, that I am fully acquainted with the layout of this place, not to mention in the possession of very confidential information pertaining secret escape routes for the royal family, which Noctis and I frequently used to slip away from some classes when he wanted to explore?”

Aranea was wide-eyed by then – Ignis never stopped surprising her, and the dragoon was someone who prided herself in being unpredictable to keep throwing anyone off tracks. Apparently, he was just as good as sweeping the floor from beneath her feet, because this was one of the first times where the name of his childhood friend and sovereign came out of his lips in a decidedly fond manner and without a trace of mourning.

Well, that and the idea of Ignis skipping classes rather than striving for perfect grades every day.

“…You sneaky bastard.”

“Quite the one indeed, my dear. Now, if you’d rather stay and watch the rest of the concert, I shall gladly keep you company. But if you’re more interested in dark, secret tunnels where one would not be so easily disturbed…”

Aranea shut him up with a kiss, once more turning their positions and having him against the wall; she pressed her body up to his, yanking him by the tie and making sure he could feel as much of her dress against him as he could, knowing that his trailing hands were his eyes and that he was very appreciative of the outfit for that occasion.

“Get us there and you’ll have the pleasure of removing it all, love.”

A raised eyebrow and no flushed cheeks were Aranea’s response; one of his fingers toyed with the strap of her dress, but it slowly let go of the fabric, descending from her shoulder and going over her arm until reaching her hand, intertwining their fingers and pulling the former commodore close.

“I’d be loath to deny a lady’s request. This way.”

Aranea laughed softly and went after the adviser, following him along intricate hallways and getting further and further away from the music. Much later, they were greeted outside by a smirking Gladio and a laughing Prompto, who handed back her shoes and his glasses and pretended not to notice the undone tie or the slightly rumpled dress.

“Noct would be proud of you, Iggy.”

“I know. Not sure our teachers would share the feeling, though,” the adviser responded to light-hearted snickering from his friends, but Aranea just grinned. If anyone asked – she was just _hella_ proud of them all.


End file.
